


Damn The Consequences

by loOkMA_iTyPeLiKeDiS



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: (really i don’t; still haven’t watched it yet), Barebacking, Closet Sex, F/M, PWP, S8 based, Shiro's wedding, but not really bc i don’t know her, hookup, post canon au, word vomit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:54:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29790843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loOkMA_iTyPeLiKeDiS/pseuds/loOkMA_iTyPeLiKeDiS
Summary: Weddings and alcohol are never a good combination.
Relationships: Lance & Pidge | Katie Holt, Lance/Pidge (Voltron), Lance/Pidge | Katie Holt
Comments: 6
Kudos: 36





	Damn The Consequences

**Author's Note:**

> had some free time to smut
> 
> idk when shiro gets married, so i'm placing it at 1 yr post

There’s absolutely no hesitation—no thoughts of whatever the hell they’re doing—as they stumble through the coat closet, mouths trying to remain connected with the flurry of movement, Lance’s hand grasping Pidge’s waist to keep her arched against him while Pidge fights with his tucked in shirt to get to the clasp of his pants. He holds her jaw, trailing wet kisses down her neck as he sucks on the skin and relishing in her sharp intake of breath and the sighed _‘fuck yes’_. It’s a fight to detangle themselves from the bramble of hangers jabbing them in the head when he backs her into the wall and slides a leg between hers. The assailants go largely ignored in Lance’s head, especially when Pidge’s fingers are working the zipper down and pressing against his erection.

Despite all the bacon-wrapped shrimp, grilled mushroom sliders, and cake (so much cake), two glasses of champagne from the open bar and a scotch— _neat;_ he’s sophisticated now—and Lance feels like liquor is slooshing around in his foggy ass head.

He’s still unsure how he’d ended up like this with Pidge.

One second chatting closely about her failed dates and his and Allura’s decision to remain friends, the next trading sloppy kisses in the coat closet of the reception hall. The door had barely been closed and locked and chain yanked for light before they were all over each other, and though Lance is trying to reel himself in, it’s pretty hard to do when Pidge’s tiny frame fits so right against his. She’s got him so stirred up he can’t think about anything other than sticking his dick in the utter bliss of her warm hole.

(Honestly, he’s pretty sure it’s because of how she looks in the suit).

Even so, there’s a moment after their mouths have found each other again and he’s practically ripped the buttons to open her tuxedo blouse and she lets out a breathless whisper of his name that he realises this is real. He’s bulldozing right to fucking one of his best friends, consequences be damned, and he’s pretty sure commandment #1 in the Best Friends Bible, is ‘thou shalt not fuck’.

“…What are we doing here, Pidge?” he pants against her mouth as she sucks on his bottom lip. Her fruity perfume drifts in his nose, and he can’t even think straight.

“I would have thought that would…” she makes a soft noise, grinding her crotch on his thigh for friction and fisting his hair when he palms her breasts under her bra and toys with her nipples, “that would be obvious… _unngh God_ … Pay attention, Lance.”

Pidge shoves his pants down and grasps him fully. His composure is almost completely shattered when she starts pumping him torturously slow, dragging her nails loosely along the underside of his dick and making his knees go weak. He shudders from the sensation, leaning into her when she squeezes his balls. There’s cum dribbling out of the tip, he’s painfully hard and throbbing with need, and Lance decides he just doesn’t give a shit about repercussions when he’s finally getting laid after a _long_ seven months. Pidge leans up to occupy his mouth with hers, and their kiss deepens, tongues stroking each other in a leisurely dance. It’s a hassle trying not to knock teeth while they giggle and hobble and hop around trying to get a leg of Pidge’s trousers off. A smattering of coats gets knocked off, landing in a heap on the floor.

Lance’s pants are pushed halfway down his legs when he hauls her up and presses her into the wall. She circles his waist, hands in his hair, yanking him closer as he grinds into her. Electricity shoots down his legs, and they both groan against each other’s mouths as they try to catch their breath. He grinds against her again, and the need to be inside her becomes unbearable.

“Jesus… I can’t believe I’ve gone without this for seven months,” Lance moans, his words a bit slurred as he drops mindless kisses along her jaw and strokes the creamy skin of her hips and waist.

“Seven months?” She snorts, though it turns into a keening whimper when he grips himself to drag the head of his cock against her entrance. “Try… _fuck_ … try never having this.”

He glances up in alarm, though ends up sidetracked and staring at her exposed breasts. “Oh man. Am I your—?”

“No.”

Annoyed, she cants her hips forward and Lance’s tip sinks inside her. He groans, exhaling raggedly into the air, trying to adjust to the sensation and savour what will likely be his only time having sex for the next several months, but she’s bucking her hips urgently, and he keeps sliding in further and he feels like if he doesn’t get this under control, it’s going to end with him spilling right here and now.

“Lance, c’mon,” she whines, eyes half-lidded as she bites her lower lip. “We don’t have time for this.”

“Dammit, Pidge. Hold on a—”

She slams her mouth on his, stealing his voice in a searing open-mouthed kiss as she wraps her arms around him and presses her chest against his. He grows impossibly harder at her aggressiveness—her _very wet_ enthusiasm—but she’s ready to go and clearly impatient. Lance slides his hands over her ass and snaps his hips forward, plunging in and damn near losing his mind from being engulfed in her silky wetness.

“Fu-fuck…” he moans, closing his eyes for a second as he starts to move, rocking inside her steadily, mind blanking and the pounding of his pulse in his ear.

He’d longed for this sensation for so long, the tight heat cinching him, and Lance grows lost in his ruts, the building pressure in his groin driving him towards an incredible release. Pidge’s shallow gasps drift in his ear as she writhes in his hold, and he drops his head on her shoulder, his breathing ragged and nails practically digging in her skin as he grasps her to pull her harder to him. She gladly accommodates, spreading her knees wider and rolling into his hands to take as much of him inside her as possible.

“Lance, _please_ … _oh God yes… mnngh…_ ”

His thrusts turn more frenzied as he buries himself deeper and deeper inside her. The slapping of their wet hips fills the room with Pidge’s sexy little whimpers. Lance can feel some of their mingled fluids dripping on his thigh, and he nips at her neck while kneading a breast. He is long past the point of cohesion, muttering nonsense and sucking in shallow air as their frantic, restless need for fulfilment grows more stifling.

Of all people, he’d never believed he could find absolute nirvana sheathed inside Pidge. A primal need to defile her rises as he delves deeper, harder, making her bounce from the force of his thrusts. Her laboured breathing turns into fits, emerging in gasps as she grasps his face to reclaim his mouth. Their mouths stay locked in a provocative kiss, the twining of her tongue against his making his whole body go hot. She angles her hips and white lights scatter behind Lance’s eyes as she becomes impossibly tighter.

“God, _Katie… uungh_ … _fuck_ … _perfect_ … _you’re perfect_.”

He’s needed this.

He’s needed release so bad.

He’s sure he’s going to black out, and it’s definitely not helping that Pidge is clinging to him like she needs him too, that her walls are squeezing him, the suction pulling him in deeper each time he pulls out. They come up for air gasping, ragged pants and hard swallows filling the air as they try to catch their breath. His vision is swirling and he’s dizzy as fuck, and it takes all his power to keep it together. There’s nothing more amazing than being surrounded by her scent, buried in her, listening to her desperate whimpers and hitching breath. He’s this close to a glorious orgasm, and he’s not sure he can hold out anymore. Their rhythm grows frantic, sloppy jerking thrusts making Pidge’s tits bounce as she hits the wall with a rhythmic thump.

“Slow down… I-I can’t—” Pidge cries out, sobbing with need as she grips his shoulders like a lifeline. “ _Haah_ … _Ahh_!”

Lance exhales harshly through grit teeth, his lips grazing her ear as he shoves a hand between them to stroke around her clit. He’s not sure how much longer he can hold out with the way his dick drags along the slick heat, making him lightheaded.

Pidge’s surprised little ‘ _oh’_ is music to his ears. Even better when he clearly hits a sweet spot inside her and her mouth drops open, eyes closing in absolute bliss. He quickly slaps a hand over her mouth when her cries grow high pitched and more unbridled, and he’s positive she’s about to scream for real. While there’s a whole party going on outside that will likely mask their sounds, he doesn’t want to get caught and interrupted when he’s finally reached the heaven he was looking for for several lonely nights having to choke the chicken.

(Plus Shiro, her dad, Matt, and most especially her mom are dancing away a door down, and if they get caught like this, he’s pretty sure he’s as good as dead).

He slams into her faster, much harder until he can feel her walls trembling, her body succumbing to the sensation. His heart stutters in its beat as ripples of ecstasy and focused pleasure shiver through him. The pressure grows exponentially as he grabs her hips and pulls her down harder onto his cock. There’s no slowing down when he wants to possess her this much, wants to watch her lose complete control. He’s so ready to come, but he sure as hell doesn’t want this to end.

Pidge grabs the bar above them for purchase and drops her head back, incomprehensible noises escaping her lips. The tightness in his groin is too much, screaming at him to release. It’s torture with each passing second. He wrenches his eyes shut to focus on the sensation and not every nerve firing off signals for him to bottom out in her and flood her with his cum. The wall is creaking from the way she’s pulling at the bar, Pidge’s uncontrolled cries are egging him on, and before he knows it, he’s letting out animalistic growls and pounding her so hard his knees almost buckle. He slams into her like a man crazed, desperate, shifting his fingers to stroke her with the pads of his fingers until it’s clearly too much for her.

A well-timed brush of her clit, and Pidge unravels in his arms.

The way she comes—every part of her squeezing him, fluttering around him with unbelievable warmth, clenching and quivering as she arches—has Lance’s eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head. She makes a choked noise, her hands scrambling on his shoulders, clawing his back until she hides her face in the crook of his neck and releases a muffled scream.

He only really has enough energy to hold off for a handful more thrusts, especially with Pidge’s erratic convulsions around his length. His thighs hurt, muscles trembling to hold them up, his rhythm lost entirely as his body screams at him to abandon himself to his pleasure. Lance slows his pace a bit to long, even, deep thrusts again and again and again, bucking into her desperately until he drives into her to the hilt and soars right over the edge.

His own climax _wrecks_ him.

Lance lets outs a harsh, strangled groan of blissful agony as a white-hot eruption tears down his back as she pulses around him and milks him for all he’s worth. His throbbing, jarring climax turns his limbs to mush, so intense his brain short circuits from the rush of fire blazing through his body. It’s absolute heaven the way his mind blanks, white electricity scorching up and down his back as the pressure finally releases. He’s lost all control, and the only thing he can think about is pouring every ounce of himself inside her perfect body. He stumbles forward and has to plant his hands on the wall to keep from dropping them both onto the ground. He feels completely and utterly boneless, sated, spent.

It takes several seconds for him to gather his bearings and even longer before his spinning head and blurry vision finally start to clear.

He strokes a hand through Pidge’s hair when he notices she’s slumped on him, arms loosely around his shoulders, her eyes still squeezed shut as tightly as possible. Her legs are still trembling, and her breathing is nothing but some quick, shallow breaths.

“You… you okay?” Lance pants, patting her head in concern.

A short nod, though she is still taking shuddering breaths, and she honestly seems like she’s in another world right now. Honestly, it kind of makes him swell with pride. It’s quite good work for someone who hasn’t fucked in months, if he does say so himself.

It takes about a minute or two before both their breathing is normal again, but he makes the mistake of giving Pidge a once over as she leans back against the wall with a satisfied sigh and runs a hand through her tangled hair.

Between the mussed hair, kiss swollen lips, open shirt and rucked up bra, perky pebbled nipples in his direct line of sight, half her pants off, and especially the glistening fluid where their bodies are merged, Pidge looks thoroughly and completely debauched, and it’s all he can do to stop himself from pinning her to the floor and ravaging her.

All he can think is, he is so so so glad he hadn’t gone for that third glass of champagne, otherwise, he might not have been able to get it up.

“Did we just—”

“Yeah…”

They stare at each other for a bit, both equally perplexed at what had transpired between them with no prelude to their sudden desire to fuck each other’s brains out. And then Pidge lets out incredulous laughter.

“Not really sure what’s funny…”

“It’s just… well, you _were_ my first… uhh, guy. Wasn’t expecting it to be… well, _that_ ,” she says through an almost breathless exhale.

It comes as a shock to him. He’s not really sure what to say.

“…Wowza.”

“Wowza…? Really?”

“Look. I’m drunk. We’re lucky I can even form coherent sentences. But are you okay? I didn’t hurt you being rough, did I?”

“Wowza,” she repeats, face completely blank as she leans back against the wall and crosses her arms. He swallows hard as he stares at her chest. “Yes, some of it hurt, but you see? I just knew if I told you the truth you’d get all gooey and stupid and nervous.”

“Jeez, stop harping about the wowza! I’m sticking with my decision to say that word! And of course I would get nervous!” He waves his hands around emphatically. “I’d rather you enjoy your first time as something better than a closet hookup during our Space Dad’s wedding.”

“I don’t give a crap about that.”

“I know, but…” Lance rubs the back of his neck with a sheepish smile. “You’re a wowza person, Pidge. Amazing. Incredible. And you’re pretty and intelligent. And super cute in your tux… and you have really kissable lips. I just think you deserve better for a first time, and I could do way better.”

Most of that is not what he meant to say out loud, but the words escape his mouth before he can firmly put his filter in place, and it’s too late to backtrack.

With each of his compliments, she’d looked less and less sarcastic and more thoughtful, and now, she’s giving him a soft look he hasn’t really seen on her face in a year or so. But in the next second, she blinks with a minute shake of her head, the look fades, and a smirk takes its place.

“You are such a dork. I have no problem with a quick, rough fuck, and I enjoyed it that way, so stop being all emotional. Anyway, we need to get back to the party.”

Pidge pushes against his chest to set her down. He pulls out of her with a wet slosh, a string of cum momentarily suspended between them, and he _has to_ look away when he spies some of his cum dribbling out from between her legs. He feels a renewed twinge of arousal and turns before she can see that he’s about to have another boner. It’s killing him.

There’s a brisk knock on the door, and they both turn to each other in a panic, eyes wide as they take in their surroundings. They can’t let anyone in here. Their dishevelled clothes notwithstanding, the entire room reeks of cum and sex and the combined scent of their musk. It’d be pretty obvious for anyone who walked in to figure out what they’d been up to.

“Hello?!” There’s another knock. “Why is this door locked? Coat check person? Anyone in there? I need my coat!”

“Uhhh,” Lance says, wracking his brain for something. “Slip your… coat, umm, ticket under the floor!”

The lady outside makes a disgruntled noise, but she does slide it under the door. While Pidge hurries to put coats back on their hangers, Lance searches for the coat. Thankfully, they’re organised by arrival, and he ends up finding her coat in the small pile on the floor. Once he’s sure he has the rumpled coat, he unlocks and opens the door a sliver and passes the coat through the crack of the door. The woman is clearly displeased since she all but snatches it from his hand.

“Okay, we need to hurry up and get out of here,” Pidge says from somewhere behind him.

“Yeah…” Lance turns around as he tugs up his pants and stuffs his parts in their proper place. “So… I guess we fucked…”

And if he’s truly honest with himself, he wants it again. Right now. Maybe in his car.

Pidge nods, discomfort in her expression as she scratches at her hair. The electric tension in the air dwindles to something anxious and a little vulnerable. And unpleasant.

“Lance… this is kind of… awkward. We should just… you know…?”

“…Forget it ever happened? That bad, huh?” he jokes, though he can’t deny he is lowkey offended. And pretty disappointed.

“It was great. I just don’t want it to mean anything more than what it was.” She shrugs apologetically. “Let’s get back to the party. Been gone a while.”

There’s an emptiness in his chest as he watches Pidge meticulously pull her clothes together and inspect herself for obvious signs of their recent activities. There’s a part of him that wonders if the feeling is because he misses post-coital cuddles with Allura, but they’ve long since broken up. And this is different than the loneliness from the early days of their mutual breakup.

It’s more as if Pidge has closed her door in his face when he’d just started to want to peek inside a bit more.

He can’t deny his deep desire to have sex with her again, and it kind of throws him for a loop because walking into the reception, he wasn’t really sure how he’d seen Pidge.

(And now he’s imagining her naked in his bed with her legs on his shoulders and his tongue circling her clit).

“…Lance? Earth to Lance?” she mutters, giving him a strange look as she walks towards the door. “Stop staring at me. You’re making me think I have cum on my face or something.”

Before she can open the door, he snakes an arm around her back to pull her in close, leaning down and catching her lips in a slow kiss. He can taste the confusion on her lips, but even so, she unconsciously reciprocates, reaching up and winding her arms around his neck. Lance is drunk on her taste, trying to savour every last bit of her as he can.

She blinks up at him in bewilderment as he pulls away, a question in her eyes as she searches his.

He just needs to know he’s not the only one who is kind of floored by how much he wants to have her again. From the way her nipples feel beaded through her shirt and how flustered and red her face is, he’s convinced the feeling is mutual.

“What…?”

“Felt appropriate to end on this note.” Lance aims a teasing smirk her way, jerking his thumb in his direction. “If you ever need someone to diddle your skittle in the future, I’m your guy.”

Pidge laughs, and unwinds herself from him with a shake of her head. “If anyone asks, we were getting fresh air, kay?”

Then she slips out the door and Lance waits an appropriate amount of seconds before cutting the lights and leaving as well. In the bathroom, he inspects himself more carefully, and it’s a miracle there isn’t any cum on the pristine white suit of Shiro’s bridal party. There’s no hiding awkward stains on white clothes.

He cleans up and takes care of his business before splashing water on his flushed face at the sink, and wondering what is the matter with him to hook up with Pidge of all people. As far as drunk shenanigans go, this is one of the most extreme things he’s ever done. And worst of all, not only is he drunk now, but he has sex on the brain and that means random boners for no reason all night.

But he’d enjoyed hooking up with Pidge. A lot.

(A lot more than he should).

Once he’s back at the booming reception hall with laughing crowds of dancing people and the music reverberating through every possible inch of the room, he finds Hunk with most of their friends, trying to show Allura, Romelle, a disinterested N-7, and a confused Keith a dance move. He catches Pidge’s eyes across the room, and she pauses and smiles, a bit awkward but warm, and he smiles back.

It’s a bit of a bummer that she seems to be putting the brakes on whatever this newfound attraction is between them, but at least he can say he fulfilled his dream of sleeping with a bridesmaid of a wedding.

(Eh. Close enough). 


End file.
